Meaning of Being Saved
by Re-Chained Imagination
Summary: Harry is abused beyond belief, and Dumbledore has to find him a new home. Soon calls Hermione Granger's house his home. But being saved doesnt mean everything is good. Harry will undergo more losses and love no one expects. M for violence and rape.
1. Painful Existance

**Hello, my lovely readers. Yes, I know it's strange; I have ventured away from my lighthearted Anime fan fictions and jumped right into Harry Potter. I do not own J.K Rowlings story, though I do claim my own plot. Warning, this story is not for the faint of heart. Violence and abuse in this first chapter.**

**PS. If there is anyone out there that is willing to be my very patient beta, and willing to explain how the whole beta process works I will be very grateful! Yes, I am reposting this with the corrections Microsoft Word has informed me, but it doesn't catch all the grammar mistakes. **

The one year old lay swaddled in his thin blanket and looked up. He was on a small concrete porch and was able to feel the bristle surface of the welcome mat beneath him. His forehead hurt. Uncomfortable, the small child whimpered softly and cried, wondering where his mummy was. She was warm and she made sure the hurting went away all the time, but she wasn't there now. Whimpers getting louder, the child waited for his mum to hear him, but again neither she nor his daddy came to him. It was cold, and he wanted his thicker blanket with the dragon on it.

The child with the scarred forehead lay there and soon quieted when no one came to help him, his young mind drifting off. He remembered the funny green light from the man's stick that had hurt him. He didn't like that man at all, thinking his mum needed to give him a time out. Squirming uncomfortably the child shivered. At times he could hear echoes of his daddy the mummy shouting. His mummy had called his name. Then the light…. Then nothing

The child eventually fell asleep in the cold October night and did not awaken until the morning, when a heavily overweight man walked out and stepped on his stomach. Harry began to cry out shrilly from the new pain.

"What the bloody hell?!" The elephant sized man with the creature- Ahem I mean moustache on his upper lip looked down at the crying baby and scowled.

Bending down the fat man grasped the letter that had fallen off the child in the middle of the night, ignoring the wails and flipped it over. The Hogwarts Crest was one thing the man never wanted to see. Hand shaking Vernon Dursley tore open the letter and began to read the curling script.

"Petunia!" Turning around he ran back in and slammed the door, leaving the crying infant outside.

"Petunia!"

The Horse-face featured woman came running out, holding a fat blob-like infant in her arms. The one year old in question had a pastry in both hands and was, surprisingly, succeeding in shoving both into his small mouth. Vernon smiled at his son before recalling why he was shouting and scowled at his beloved wife.

"What is the meaning of this!?" He waved the envelope in her face, showing the broken Hogwarts seal. The woman paled and turned, quickly walking into the living room to set Dudley in his playpen.

"I haven't got any clue as to what you're talking about dear." She barely had time to turn around when a large hand swung out and clapped against the side of her face.

Always the hand and never a fist, so as not to leave a bruise. Crashing to the ground the scrawny woman sat and knew not to rub her face. He would hit her again if she did. Petunia looked up far enough to gaze at his forehead, and not into his eyes. The vein pulsed.

"Do you think this is funny? I will not have a… a… freak living in my house! You send him right back to that freak school or the brat's father's family. I will not have him here!" He crumbled the letter up and threw it into her face before turning and marching out. The door slammed shut behind him, and the sound of the child screaming in pain was audible a second time. Finally the sound of an engine cranked and he pulled away.

At first, Petunia did nothing. Dudley remained unaware as he licked the cream from his pastries off his pudgy little fingers. She was trying to understand what her husband had been talking about, but could not come to any conclusion. He had continuously repeated the word freak so the woman gradually came to the conclusion this had something to do with her sister Lily. Having not received any word from her in a year the woman snatched up the crumbled letter and stood, opening the abused letter. Inside, it mentioned Lily and James Potter's death, which Petunia had trouble not crying from. She may have resented her sister but she did love her. And now she was responsible for their brat! Tossing the letter into the wastebasket she walked to the door slowly.

Opening it wide she looked out and then down. Vernon must have kicked the child because his lower lip was bloody. Bending, the horse-like woman picked up the black haired infant. Turning, she slowly carried him inside, not missing the fact she smelt a very aromatic nappy. She changed the unconscious child, bathed his lip and redressed him in a pair of Dudley's old cloths, shocked to find them a little baggy.

How could Lily leave her with this... With this child? She didn't want Harry, with his horribly common name and inherited looks of his freak father. No doubt he was a freak as well, with his magic! How Britain could continue letting such people run about causing trouble- but then not many normal people knew about them. Sneaky little freaks.

Lifting up the one year old, she was not expecting him to wake up right then. Nearly dropping Harry, Petunia stared into his pained green eyes and for a moment she was not thinking about him at all. She was 12 years old again with Lily, at the train station. Unable to stop the tears that filled her eyes she swiftly walked into the living room and put him into the crib with Dudley, who immediately began to pinch and poke his cousin from curiosity. Harry's cries were ignored all day. Things only got worse when Vernon returned home.

**-oOo-**

Vernon gripped his fork extra tight, Dudley's highchair to his right and his wife, whom had been hit a few more times on his return home, on his left. The man was glaring at the child that had been left in their living room, drinking from one of HIS SON'S bottles and drinking the formula that HIS money had bought for Dudley. Petunia had said they wouldn't take him back and if they tossed him into an orphanage they would just keep bringing him back or the blood ward- whatever the ruddy hell that was!- Would stop working and they would be in danger. Bunch of manipulative lies no doubt.

Vernon reached under the table and grabbed his wife's bony thigh, squeezing painfully tight.

"I will not do anything for the boy! I do not want you taking any of your attention away from my son. Give the boy the bare essentials and that will be all he gets! Do I make myself clear, Petunia?" Dudley didn't seem to catch the menacing tone of his father, just laughing as he gorged himself on his baby food.

Petunia gave a very slight nod to her husband and gave him a horse smile.

"And he will not be drinking any more of Dudley's formula! Sugar water is all the boy needs." He snarled as he put a fork full of roasted lamb into his mouth.

"Yes darling." Petunia stood up and went to the boy at an even pace, willing him to drink quickly. Bending down she grasped the bottle again and was greeted with Lily's eyes. She pulled the bottle away and was rewarded with a cry from Harry. However, she did not respond and simply went to the kitchen to dump the contents from the bottle.

Vernon's vein began to pulse at every minute the boy began to cry more and more. Flinging his cutlery onto the table, much to Dudley's delight, Vernon walked over to Harry and grabbed him by his arm painfully. Dragging the child across the room, he opened the door to the broom closet and dumped the little one year old inside with the vacuum and mop. Closing the door with a bang he turned and walked back to the kitchen to finish his supper, the muffled shrieks of the boy being completely ignored.

**-oOo-**

Harry lay curled up on the blanket in the cupboard, half his face swollen and bloody. He recalled he'd been hit because he had accidentally burnt the breakfast sausage. Wincing slightly in pain he managed to roll over onto her back, a throbbing pain in his left knee. Oh yes, Uncle Vernon had gotten him good this time, he had deserved it. He just couldn't help watching Dudley open his presents. Not because he was jealous or anything. Harry was used to not receiving any gifts and to be honest, with the way Dudley's fancy gadgets always managed to break before the first week of summer was over, he did like to look and see them. They were visually intriguing to the six year old.

Harry remained quiet. Talking wasn't allowed unless he was spoken too. Slowly, pushing himself up with the arm that pained him less, the young child propped himself up against the wall and waited. Since it was Dudley, the fat pig in the wig's birthday and Aunt Marge was coming they would have to bring him out for appearances sake. To be honest, despite the fact his Aunt Marge hated him about as much as his uncle Vernon did, Harry was glad she was coming. He was given a plate of food when they came. Of course no one talked to him, and he always had to clean the dishes after but that didn't matter. Harry could count on both hands, how often he got a full meal.

The cupboard door slammed forward. A bony hand reached in and grabbed him by the shoulder. She was gentle for a split second before jerking him out and to his feet, marching the boy outside to the tin tub. He didn't get to use the shower inside, and they disdainfully allowed him the use of their toilet.

Stripping the boy, she shoved him into the ice water. A minute later a bar of hard lye soap was applied to his hair and she scrubbed gently. It was a secret between him and his Auntie Tunia (Something he only called her privately, of course) that she was much nicer when it was just him and her.

"You will keep your mouth shut tonight Harry. Please. Vernon is already seething with anger. It will… not be pleasant if you make him any angrier." She urged in a hushed voice.

"Yes, Auntie Tunia." The boy held obediently still for his aunt as she scrubbed him down.

"Petunia, isn't the boy ready yet!?" Vernon's voice boomed, making them both jump.

"Yes Darling! Get up Boy." She made her voice sound disgusted as Harry quickly stood. Without bothering to hand him a towel she swiftly shoved him back in his clothes and bustled him inside, where Vernon was straightening his tie.

"Marge will be here soon. She can't wait to see you, Dudley my boy!" His father spoke proudly, not even tossing Harry a second glance.

"Yes Father." Dudley didn't even look away from the TV, slowly stuffing more and more of his first birthday cake into his mouth. Another cake was waiting in the fridge for after supper.

Vernon turned and glared down at Harry. Ominously he leaned forward and got right into the little boys face, hissing angrily.

"If you so much as look at my sister funny you're going to wish you were never born. What I have done beforehand will seem like a pleasant dream compared to this. Got it, boy!?"

Harry gulped, nodding quickly in response to his uncle.

-oOo-

Harry stood, back pressed up against the tree. Tied down by the wrists with some rope, he was unable to move. The little boy was terrified beyond belief and his uncle hadn't even come out to exact the punishment Harry knew he deserved.

A moment later, the back porch light flicked on. Walking outside, his uncle carried an old wooden paddle in his hand. Harry Potter began to sweat bullets in fear.

"Think you can get away with it, calling my dear sister whatever you like FREAK? Well I will not tolerate that in my household!" The paddle swung forward and slammed into his side. Unable to suppress the shout of pain, Harry cried out. Sneering in approval his uncle swung the paddle again, much harder this time.

"You're a freak just like your magician father!" WHAM! Harry tilted his head back and cried out. Dropping the paddle his uncle Vernon removed a shoe and yanked off his sock, stuffing the foul thing into the boy's mouth to shut him up. Moments later the paddle collided with his ribcage. He could feel something crack.

"And your mother, she was just a freak and a whore! Wouldn't even accept my superior advances over your freak of a father!" BAM!

Swinging the paddle in a raged frenzy, it collided over and over into Harry's torso, breaking more and more ribs. Occasionally the paddle would slam into his arms and legs. It eventually broke his left arm. Harry hung from the ropes, spitting up blood. Around one a.m. his uncle dropped the paddle and had, he assumed, returned inside. But he was about to find out that he was very wrong. Walking out with an old belt, his uncle began to beat him again. The metal buckle of the belt continued to slam into his body. He grunted and cried out in pain every time the metal piece that went through the hold of the belt bit into his skin, which was often. Soon, young Harry Potter was covered in cuts and bruises, bleeding profusely.

The only comfort he received was the fact that it was a cold evening, and this soothed his aches marginally. Around two a.m. his uncle seemed to finally calm down and tire of him. Picking up the paddle and his belt, Vernon left the boy there as he went inside to sleep. Petunia closed the curtain and felt like crying.

**I seriously cried as I wrote this. My family is not stranger to this kind of thing, my dad being a law enforcement officer and my mum being a social worker. I decided that this would be a good way to maybe bring child abuse into awareness. But assure you Harry won't be with the Dursley's much longer. Please review. Ja Ne!**

**UPDATE! Thanks to Japboix1 for being my wonderful beta! Thanks so much!**


	2. A New Place

**Thanks for all the Favorites and Author Alerts everyone. It made me write this chapter super fast. Please enough. Things become a little better for little Harry. I own nothing of J.K. Rowlings, only my own plot and idea's.**

**PS. If there is anyone out there that is willing to be my very patient beta, and willing to explain how the whole beta process works I will be very grateful! Yes, I am reposting this with the corrections Microsoft Word has informed me, but it doesn't catch all the grammar mistakes. **

The tall, bearded headmaster walked along the late of Private Dr., looking highly eccentric in his periwinkle dressing robes and crescent moon glasses. In his hand he held a small gift for the soon to be seven year old Harry Potter. He hadn't come to check on the young Boy-Who-Lived since he had dropped him off on his Aunt and Uncles porch, but he was sure that the boy was being very well cared for. He wouldn't wait to see, who he imagined was a bright, happy young boy. He might even tell him about the young girl he had gone to see today. Miss Hermione Granger. A very bright little girl that was excelling in her classes, even at the tender age of 7 herself.

Recalling fondly the meeting, the headmaster stopped.

_The headmaster rang the charming contraption he momentarily recalled his friend, Arthur Weasley, calling a doorbell. It didn't take long for the door to be opened by a young girl with short bushy brown hair, held up in sweet pig-tails. She stared up at the old man with wide eyes before holding out a hand politely._

"_Hello, my name is Hermione Granger. Who're you?" Dumbledore got that familiar twinkle in his eye and grasped the small hand within his own, shaking gently._

"_I am Albus P. Dumbledore, your future headmaster, Miss Granger." He smiled when the girl looked at him in awe. _

"_Might I come in?" He got a hasty nod as the little girl turned and ran into the house, seeking out her mother as Albus stepped inside their charming London home._

_A moment later Hermione's mother appeared. She was a young 30 year old with thick dark brown hair falling over her lovely shoulders. Honestly, if he wasn't gay he may have found the woman to his taste. Alas, that wasn't to be so._

"_Hello, how can I help you Mr.… uhm…" She looked uneasily at the strange man that had just sat himself down on her couch in what looked to be a dress._

"_Albus Percival Dumbledore. And I have just stopped in to check on my future student, Miss Hermione Granger."_

"_Future student? I don't think I understand sir... Hermione is just in primary school-"_

"_I can assure you, Mrs. Granger, Hermione will attend our school one she reaches the age of 11. May I ask you a question?" He smiled gently at the woman and waited._

"_I suppose so…"_

"_Has Hermione ever done anything stranger; something you couldn't explain?" He was not surprised when she looked hesitant. Slowly she pulled Hermione, whom was holding a shockingly thick book for one her age, into her lap._

"_Well, there was one time at school. Another child was teasing poor Hermione. She said she got angry and... Books began to fly towards the student. But the teacher believes she was just throwing them around."_

"_Well Mrs. Granger, I am very pleased to say your bright young lady is a Witch. And quite possible a very powerful one." She stared at him with a dumbfounded expression._

"_Surely you must be joking?"_

"_I assure you Mrs. Granger, I am not."_

Oh, yes indeed. When her husband came home for brunch they had all shared a very amusing conversation, up to the point where Albus finally decided to demonstrate with a levitation spell on Hermione's book. She had found it delightful and from there after they looked at their own daughter with love and awe. More so, to be completely accurate.

He had a feeling Harry Potter would like the girl very much once he started Hogwarts in a few years. Turning the corner Albus walked along the side of the Dursley house, glancing curiously into their backyard. Shock brought him to a complete and utter standstill. In their backyard, died to a tree hung a limp 6 year old with shockingly black hair. The child did not appear to be alive, and the sight made the old man's heart stop. Shoving the backdoor open he approached the child that he knew to be Harry Potter. When he lifted the boys head gently by the chin he felt like vomiting. It was swollen and dark with bruises, his glasses completely smashed and broken.

Upon further inspection he found his scalp to be bloody, though thankfully the bleeding itself had stopped. His arm was broken, along with multiple ribs. Even his lefts seemed slightly swollen. Tears filled the Headmasters eyes. With a gentle flick of his wand the ropes fell from his wrists. Albus wrapped his arms around the boy and without much thought the old man apparated to the Granger Household. He took the few steps to their front porch and knocked almost harshly on their front door and shoved past Mr. Granger when he opened the door.

"What the bloo- Professor Dumbledore? What in the world?" Mr. Granger did not get the response he expected as the old man laid a bloody, malnourished child onto his couch.

"Please get hot water and bandages. Quickly!"

Mr. Granger didn't hesitate, but found himself wondering why. Hermione, hearing the commotion crept downstairs and towards the old man, looking around him. Seeing the bloody, half dead boy she gasped and began to cry. Mrs. Granger left her kitchen with a bowl of hot water and set it and a cloth on the coffee table before rushing Hermione out of the room, looking over her shoulder in worry.

Gregory ran down with their first aid kit, giving it to the old headmaster.

"Hold him down. This will be slightly painful."

Nodding his assent, Greg reached down and held the boy by his shoulders, making sure he didn't move as Dumbledore removed his wand and began to wave it over the boy, speaking beneath his breath. Nothing happened immediately, and Greg began to wonder if they needed to take the boy to the emergency room. But slowly the bones in his ribs and arm mended. This though, seemed to tire the old man.

After he was sure everything broken or torn inside the boy was mended properly the old man took the bowl and began to wash up the lacerations and sooth the bruises. The headmaster wasn't much of a healer, but what he could do he had already done.

Abigail looked at her crying daughter, reassuring her little boy in the living room would be alright and went about fixing her a mug of hot chocolate. After a few moments Hermione began to calm to simple sniffles.

"Mommy, why was that boy hurt so bad?" Her soft, sad question shook Abigail Granger to the very core. Slowly the woman sat down, taking one of her husband's old shirts from the pile of clean clothes and mended the button.

"Well sweetheart, my guess would be that he doesn't have a very nice family." She said this gently to the young girl, who looked worried by this.

"You mean he gets extra punishments. Is that why he looked so hurt?" She stared at her mother expectantly. What was she to say? Finally the woman just nodded.

Slowly looked down at her mug, tears dripping down and making the warm treat ripple.

**-oOo-**

Looking up from the boy as Mrs. Granger entered the room, Albus looked grateful. They had just finished bandaging his many cuts and the fresh shirt looked warm and soft. No doubt Harry was used to hand-me-downs but none as nice as that oversized shirt. Swaddling the young boy in them, she bid her husband to carry him up to their guest room. A few moments later they all sat in the living room to discuss what just happened.

"I do apologize, but I was in a bit of a panic." Albus bowed his head humbly to the two, who both quickly assured him it was quite alright.

"What happened to him, Professor?" Abigail looked at him with upset and worried eyes.

"Please, call me Albus. As for the child I regret to say that it is all my fault."

Gregory stared at the old man in shock. "Surely not…"

Dumbledore quickly nodded.

"It seems my neglect to check in on the boy while he lived with his Aunt and Uncle was a poor choice. It appears to me that someone, possibly both in that household has terrorized and abused him within an inch of his life. I must find him a new home, but I fear he will be scarred for years to come..."

Abigail reached out and touched his hand gently.

"It's alright Albus… everyone makes mistakes..."

Albus bowed his head and a lone tear escaped. Everything was silent. He couldn't think of many other places to keep young Harry. No one within the order was suitable, though he wished dearly he could allow Remus to look after the child. With the Werewolf laws this was simply impossible. He looked up at the couple and for a moment, the world stopped. Of course, it would be temporary. At least they would believe it was temporary until they simply began to love the young boy and adopt him, which Dumbledore planned in the end.

"I have a request to ask."

"Anything Albus. We would love to help the child." Abigail nodded in agreement with her husband.

"Allow Harry to live with you?"

**-oOo-**

Hermione crept into the guest bedroom and walked over to the boy that seemed to be swallowed by the large comfortable bed. Climbing up she looked at the boy closely. He had pale skin, with an old scar on his forehead. Messy, thick black hair. He was sort of cute. Cuter than any of the boys in her class. She was extremely pleased when the boy opened his eyes slowly and groaned, looking at her with a pained expression. He had the loveliest green eyes.

"Wh-where am I..?" He asked with a weak voice. Reaching out Hermione took his hand and smiled to him, trying to make him feel safe.

"You're at my house in London. My names Hermione Granger. What's yours?"

Hesitantly the boy spoke, unsure what this all meant to be in a strangers house.

"Harry P-potter.."

The bushy haired girl grinned enchantingly at him.

"No need to worry Harry. You're safe now."

Safe? Slowly the boy fell asleep at the though, relaxing as he held the girl's hand. Slowly Hermione crawled over and lay next to the boy, wrapping an arm gently around him.

**Very Heart warming, right, right?! Yeah I thought so too. I wasn't exactly sure how this chapter would go but I'm pleased with the outcome. Don't worry, Vernon is gonna suffer in a later chapter and Petunia? You're just going to have to wait and see. Ja Ne!**

****UPDATE! Thanks to Japboix1 for being my wonderful beta! Thanks so much!****


	3. Waking Up

**Thank you Wiccan Believer, Bensdad, TopDog19, Ragav for your wonderful reviews. And extra special thanks to Texan-muggle. I haven't got a clue as to how to ask someone to be my beta, but I had my friend read it over and we fixed the spelling and grammar we caught. **

**I do not own anything written by J.K. Rowlings, just my own plot and made-up characters.**

He was not in a familiar place! Even before opening his eyes young Harry was already aware that he was not in his stuffy little cupboard underneath the stairs. He was not wrapped up in his old baby-blanket and he was pretty sure that if he opened his eyes and looked there wouldn't be any spider bites anywhere on his body. He didn't open his eyes to look though. He was too afraid. What if this was one of Uncle Vernon's cruel tricks? One where he opened his eyes and found himself on the couch, only for the fat adult to enter, screaming that he was ruining the expensive couch with his freak body, before flinging him into his cupboard as hard as he possibly could? No, it was much better to just keep his eyes closed and continue to dream until his Uncle just grew tired of waiting and yanked him from the couch by the hair. It wouldn't be any more pleasant, but any time on any of the cushioned furniture, with his body aching the way it did, was a blessing.

Unaware that he was drifting back into a dreamlike state, Harry simply relaxed into the soft detergent scented pillows. Sadly for this little boy, sweet dreams would not come for him. As he fell deeper and deeper into the dream world voices began to echo in his mind.

"_Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off!" _A man's voice shouted faintly in his mind, and Harry felt deep down that he could almost recognize it.

"_Harry!" _The woman's voice was much more familiar and Harry believed that it might be his own mother.

Rolling onto his side the 6-year-old began to whimper softly. He knew what came next, what always came next. Green light flashed constantly in his mind, remembering something he shouldn't have been able to recall due to his young age.

"_Avada Kadavra." _Harry jerked in response and sat up in the guest bed of the Granger house, having soaked the sheets completely with sweat. He hated that dream, but Harry did not scream. He knew the price of screaming in the middle of the night. He also never wet the blanket in his cupboard, but Harry realized almost instantly that he was not in his cupboard under the stairs. Looking around with his poor vision, the little boy patted his hands on the wooden nightstand to the left of his bed, lifting his ruined glasses and setting them gingerly against his face.

Shaking in fear at what sort of cruel prank this could be from his uncle, little Harry crawled from the bed and onto the floor, looking around hastily. At some point Hermione had been taken to her own room for the night, but he quickly disregarded the bushy haired girl as a dream.

The room was larger than he was used for a bedroom. It was larger than Dudley's but smaller than his Aunt and uncle's. The walls were painted a soft eggshell blue with cream-colored trim. Lace curtains covered the single window, with a chest of drawers beneath it. Limping over to the window he looked out, seeing a backyard that was not, in any way, familiar to Harry. Slowly turning he saw that on the other side of the room was what appeared to be a closet and the door that led outside. It was simple and devoid of personal belongings but Harry found he preferred it over his Aunt's tacky rooms. And it was already ten times better than Dudley's smelly old room.

Looking down to see how much damage his uncle had succeeded in doing, Harry expected the worst. Surprisingly really, the only thing that was truly wrong with him was that he was heavily bandaged in some places. No broken bones though there was a dull throbbing in his head. However a headache was the least of his worries. Picking at the shirt he was wearing, he slowly wrapped his arms around himself and snuggled shyly into the material. He couldn't recall when Dudley had given up something so nice. Bravely the Boy-Who-Lived walked towards the door that lead out to the hallway and peeked out. It was dark so whoever lived in this house must have been asleep.

Slowly putting one foot in front of the other the little boy entered the hallway and looked around. Even the hallway was nicer than his Auntie Tunia's. Of course he would never say that to her as she was the only one that had been marginally nice to him. The windows had the same white lace curtains as the ones in his room but the walls were white as well. Photos littered the walls in a straight line despite the difference in sizes when it came to the frames themselves. Each picture either had a man, woman, little girl or a combination of all three in them.

Approaching one of the larger photos, Harry stared at the happy family in the portrait. Standing to the left was a tall man with short and well kept, light brown hair. He was dressed smartly and, even though he did not smile, Harry felt that in his eyes he was staring warmly at the camera. Beside him to his right was a woman of average height and build. She was nowhere near as skinny as his Aunt Petunia but she wasn't overweight either. Her dark brown hair fell lightly over her shoulder and she did smile. Very warmly in fact. Both had a hand on the shoulder of the little girl before them.

Harry could not help but gaze at the girl he had dismissed as a dream. She looked to be taller than him, but of course everyone was bigger than him, it seemed. She had very lightly tanned skin, and her curly light brown hair was pinned back. She dressed just as nicely as her mother and father and she smiled widely for the entire world to see.

For a moment tears filled the little boy's eyes. He couldn't help being jealous of the girl and her obviously loving family. If Harry could have anything it would most definitely be a family. One that gave a lot of hugs and maybe a kiss or two. He didn't care if that wasn't cool. To him anything a loving family did was the coolest thing in the world. Wiping a dampened cheek with the sleeve of the shirt he was wearing, the little boy made his way to the stairs and began to descend.

The house was two stories tall, something Harry was already used to from the Dursley's, but there wasn't nearly as many as knickknacks that covered anything with a flat surface. And there was a very faint scent in the air. Harry couldn't quite place it but he was pretty sure it was toothpaste. Harry really didn't know since he didn't own a toothbrush back home with the Dursley's.

Once he reached the bottom of the stairs Harry decided to take a moment and rest on the couch. His legs were still aching fiercely from the paddle and he was surprised he had made it that far. The TV in the Grangers' living room was small, and looked like it wasn't used often. Dudley had demanded they have a larger TV so he could enjoy his favorite television shows more than he already did.

Sinking into the comfortable couch, Harry managed to drift of slowly. The next time he opened his eyes it was due to the shout from a young girl.

"Mummy, I found Harry! He's asleep on the couch!" The little bushy-haired girl walked over quickly towards him, causing the smaller 6-year-to shrink away.

Hermione came to a stop and watched him with intelligent, young eyes. Her mother soon came to stand behind her.

"Goodness Harry, you gave us a fright when we didn't see you upstairs in the bed." Her scolding was light, but he still believed he was going to be punished.

Bowing his head he didn't speak at first, limbs shaking. Slowly though he uttered a soft response to the lady.

"S-sorry ma'am…." Abigail Granger looked at the little boy and could have kicked herself. Of course he would be scared after his ordeal. Dumbledore had already told them so.

**-oOo-**

_The old man sat across from Mr. and Mrs. Granger, drinking the mug of tea Abigail had provided for them as they discussed the details. _

"_I am eternally grateful that you are willing to take young Harry Potter and care for him until he comes of age. Gladly, I will cover any expenses he will need until he starts to attend Hogwarts with Hermione. At such a time his parents vault will become his own, and he can use the gold within to pay for his own school supplies and robes." _

_Gregory nodded his understand, choosing not to ask further about the boy's parents. Albus had already informed them that Harry's parents had been murdered. They would discuss that with Harry in a few years once he asked, but for now they had other things to deal with._

"_As I'm sure you both have already noticed Harry has been hurt deeply by his own family. I would appreciate it if they had no contact with him, if they are to find him at all. Nor will Harry visit them."_

"_Of course not Albus. We won't let those wretched people close to that little boy. Not if I have anything to say about it." Abigail proclaimed with maternal protection._

_Albus couldn't help but smile at the woman. She was a lioness indeed. If she had been to Hogwarts, there was no doubt in his mind that the woman would have been in Gryffindor. _

"_I still think we should call a bobby." Albus shook his head sadly. _

"_They would just take Harry away from you, and an orphanage or foster home that is already overloaded with their own children would not be a healthy environment for him." _

_Abigail sighed softly and nodded, looking at the professor with a serious expression. "What should we expect from Harry?" _

"_Besides displays of accidental magic, only things that other abused children have gone through. He will be scared and untrusting. I have faith that you will succeed in helping Harry Potter heal."_

_Gregory and Abigail could not help but give one another worried glances._

**-oOo-**

She watched her daughter slowly draw herself closer to Harry. Eventually she climbed up onto the couch, sitting beside him. Harry sat stiffly while leaning away as if he was afraid Hermione would turn into a Tasmanian devil and rip him to pieces.

"E-excuse me but… wh-where exactly am I?" He kept looking just above or below her eyes, afraid to make eye contact.

Abigail smiled gently at him though, sitting in the rocking chair that sat across from the couch.

"You're in our home. The Granger home. Don't worry, Harry Potter. You're safe here."

**Thank you all for reading this installment of Harry James PotterGranger. I look forward to more reviews! Ja Ne!**

****UPDATE! Thanks to Japboix1 for being my wonderful beta! Thanks so much!****


	4. From Pain to Life

**Thank you again my most loyal readers, Wiccan Believer and Ragav. Also, thank you for your reviews as well mitremlap, dbzgtfan2004 and paws rule. You and all the people that Favorite this story, along with adding me to their alert list is what makes me try harder and harder to write better posts. Enjoy the Forth Chapter.**

**Thanks to my wonderful Beta this has been edited! Check out his page for his own work! :D Thanks Japboix1!**

Ever since The Boy vanished from their backyard over the weekend, the Dursley household had fallen into a downward spiral. The place still appeared to be a loving home to an outsider looking in, but on the fringe the next door neighbors began to whisper that the shouting was getting worse. Petunia ceased to come out of her own home in broad daylight, and even if she did she often wore a pair of her husband's sunglasses. That or a hat that shaded her entire face. Even these ventures outside were exceedingly rare.

There was no mistake Vernon blamed Petunia for Harry's disappearance. With the boy out of their grasp there was no way for them to know if a bobby was going to come and arrest them, or one day he would return and do his freak magic and hurt them all. Their eminent deaths could be blamed easily on the horse-faced woman's shoulders. He hadn't even wanted the brat in his house to begin with.

For the moment everything was calm. Dudley was up in his room where it was safe, taking a nap. Vernon was last seen in the living room reading the newspaper. Petunia hid in her kitchen, minding her own business as she scrubbed down any surface she could reach.

Disgusted with the newspaper and its inability to tell him if the boy had been found dead somewhere, Vernon stood up and flung the poor paper down onto the couch angrily. Unsatisfied with the unanimated paper, the large blob-of-a-man turned and walked straight into the kitchen. The night Vernon had tortured Harry, something within the man had snapped. At one point he had been loving and affectionate to his wife and son. But now, with the boy gone and no outlet for his rage he began to find more and more reasons to punish Petunia and Dudley. He loved watching them scream and flinch when he entered a room. It made him feel… powerful.

Petunia hadn't seen him enter her kitchen, and Vernon almost immediately noticed this. His fat, wet lips turned down in a sneer; the furry thing on his lips bristling. Walking over slowly, he watched her. At one time he had found her rather attractive. It was before she began to become skinnier, just to fit into the dress she said that she just had to have for their wedding. Then he noticed her neck. Her ugly giraffe-like neck that seemed to never end. And it had enough skin for s second one, should she choose to grow another neck.

At the thought of his wife having a second neck, Vernon could not stop the rage that began to build. She was probably a freak like her sister, Lily. She must know magic, and probably had attended that freaks school. Hell, her blood made his son a half freak. He began to seethe with rage. Petunia turned to grab the other sponge from the sink and nearly shrieked at the sight of her purple-faced husband. That was much better. She was much more attractive frightened anyway.

He stepped forward and cornered Petunia against the counter, reaching out and causing the horse-faced woman to flinch.

"You think it's funny, do you freak? Tricking me, lying to me about what you really are? You are no better than your whore of a sister, and the son…He's no better than The Boy. Are you proud of yourself, freak? Well, are you?!" He reached out and grabbed her skinny neck with his large, fat hand.

"V-Vernon what are you talking about?" She gasped when his hand got tighter, unable to stop him from jerking her forward.

"You ruddy well know what I am talking about!" He brought his hand up and slammed it into the side of her face, loosening a few teeth and causing her lip to bust open.

"I swear, Vernon! I don't have any idea what you're talking abo-" She yelped when he backhanded her.

"Stop lying, you filthy little bitch!" Reaching his hand up, he gripped the woman's hair and slammed her head up against the fridge. Unsatisfied with this, he began to beat her head again and again on the refrigerator.

"Please... Please stop!" She sobbed in pain, being shoved to the floor.

Vernon glared down at his wife, breathing heavily for a moment. How dare she plead or tell him to stop. He would cease her punishment when he damn well pleased!

"Dad… wha… what are you doing to mum?" The question from Dudley made the entire room freeze.

The other boy dare question him... He, who had wasted all that money on clothing and toys, on the tuition for his private school! A school that he was in fact failing in. Vernon turned with crazed eyes towards Dudley and the boy stared back. Slowly, a wet stain spread over the front of his pants. He'd soiled himself.

Never had Dudley seen such a look pointed at him from his father's eyes.

Vernon only had to take one step and Dudley, despite his weight, was off quickly and up the stairs to hide in one of his two rooms. His father thundered after him, reaching out to grasp the back of the boy's shirt. Dudley nearly escaped to his rooms, but Vernon finally found that last burst of speed and snatched the boy by the shoulders and jerked him back. Dudley stumbled and waved his short arms about to catch himself, only for the man to slam him straight into the wall. Dudley cried out in pain as a curled fist came into contact with his side, getting thoroughly punched in the kidneys. Crumpling to the ground, the little boy curled up to avoid any more painful hits. Vernon brought his foot back and slammed it into the boy repetitively in multiple spots, enjoying when angry red spots covered the boys pale skin, or when he began to bleed form the mouth and nose. Oh yes, he was the boss in this house. The Boy, Dudley better learn it. Best to beat the freak out of him now before he started Smeltings, his alma-Mata.

Soon the kicking slowly stopped, Vernon glaring down at his son. His racing heart began to gradually slow down, and the anger drained from his body. He was done for now, he no longer felt the increasing need beat someone. And he didn't want to leave them with too many unexplainable bruises anyway. The boy had school in the morning and Petunia needed to go shopping for their groceries. Walking away from Dudley the man entered his bedroom for the evening, finding he fancied a nap.

Slowly the woman sat up, bringing the back of her hand to her mouth. Lightly she brushed the blood off. She still had the offensive taste of copper in her mouth. Standing slowly, she raised her bony hands to her head, smoothing her hair and ignoring the tacky feeling. Her head was bleeding. Nothing she could do about it now. Turning her head she flicked the faucet on, cupping her hands beneath the water. She swished the water around in her mouth, spitting out the blood and a tooth, a molar to be precise into the drain. The taste was still there. She didn't want to taste anything. She didn't want to feel anything. Petunia didn't even care that her son was probably upstairs, crying in pain. What mattered was that Vernon wasn't beating her. And that she needed to get the taste from her mouth.

Going to the wine cabinet she hesitated. Was she willing to possibly embark on this path of alcohol abuse? Could she hurt her family this way? Oh bloody hell, who cared? Her family was already broken and there was nothing anyone could do. Reaching into the cabinet she took the Sherry. It only took her a minute to find the wine opener and begin drinking. It cleaned the taste of blood from her mouth and numbed her throat as it flowed down into her stomach. Pulling the bottle away from her mouth she looked at the year and sighed.

"Bloody wonderful." She ascended the stairs, walked past a whimpering Dudley and straight into the washroom, where she planned to use all the water to soak. That and the washroom had the best lock out of the entire house.

Dudley couldn't believe his life had turned to this. Sitting there, the little boy whimpered and held his aching stomach. Slowly, rolling off of his side thinking if he sat up he might feel better turned out to be a mistake. The minute he was sitting up he lost the contents of his lunch onto the floor, bits of blood mixed in with his vomit.

Not even bothering to wipe his mouth, Dudley slowly leaned back against the wall. He did not like the way his family was. He wished Harry was back to grab his father's attention. He and his mummy hadn't even spent time together since his disappearance. Dudley reached out for his mother as she passed, but received no response.

Standing up slowly, Dudley stepped over the vomit and headed straight into his room. Looking around he felt no urge to play with any of his expensive toys. Thinking that maybe he would like to watch some television, he shrugged the though aside. Shrugging hurt. He headed over to his bed and slowly sat down, the springs creaking beneath him. A nap, yes a nap. Maybe if he slept the pain away he would wake up. Harry would be back and his father would be nice to mummy and him again. She wouldn't ignore him and he would hurt so much that he threw up. Curling up in his blankets, the fat child pulled his blankets over himself and curled up, giving a shaky sigh.

Across the hall he could hear his parents' door slam open, and his father storm down the hall. Fists beat against the washroom door, no doubt angry that she door was locked.

"Petunia, you open this door right now!" There was no response. Vernon began to scream and slam his fists harder and harder against the door, attempting to knock it down.

Dudley closed his eyes and tried to ignore the screams that came next. Something crashed in the bathroom, followed by begging. Hoping that the fighting would soon stop, Dudley pulled the blankets over his eyes and began to sob. Please make the bad stuff stop, anybody!

The screaming filled the hall.

"Let go of me! Damn you Vernon, let go of me!" There was a scream again.

"Get your scrawny arse into the bedroom and shut up, you drunk freak!" The door slammed shut after that, and there were many screams of pain and pleading. Dudley curled up tighter and hugged his old stuffed bear, something he hadn't sought comfort from since he was a baby. Soon the sounds all stopped, and Dudley, slowly and apprehensively pulled his blanket down away from his face and looked out the window. The sky that was once bright and cloudless had grown dark. It was fitting, the change in weather. Why should anyone else be enjoying themselves if his family wasn't? Let the rain ruin their birthday parties and playtime outside. They should be sad too.

Hopefully, somewhere out there Harry was being rained on. Maybe being beaten by some city ruffians and made to eat his own poo. Yes, Dudley found the thought that Harry must have been suffering just as much as him and his mum comforting.

Everything was better when Harry had been there.

-oOo-

_London_

The dentist sat down in the living room, reading over the report the nurse had written up for him on Harry's teeth. The little boy hadn't had any dental or medical records, and he believed the child had never seen a toothbrush or a bit of floss in his life. No matter, he would easily remedy that. He glanced up at Harry, who sat on the ground next to the couch. Hermione was beside him, trying to encourage him into playing checkers. The child wouldn't touch any of the pieces though, simply telling her where his pieces should go when it was his turn. Hermione, the little dear, humored him and even went so far as to let him win the first two rounds.

"Come on Harry. Play your own pieces for a little while alright?" She begged him hopefully, but the little boy shook his head in reply.

"I'm not allowed to play with toys. Uncle Vernon will be mad when he comes and gets me. He'll know. He always knows." The soft words lit a blaze in Gregory's heart.

If he ever saw Vernon he would... He would give him such a thorough root canal that the man wouldn't be able to eat for days. Harry was scared beyond recognition, not only physically but mentally. Lowering the report he watched the two children.

"I promise your uncle isn't going to come Harry. Please?" Hermione attempted to give him a puppy-dog pout which her father found greatly amusing.

Slowly, the little boy reached out and took one of the pieces, slowly nudging it forward. Drawing his hand back quickly the little boy looked left then right to make sure his Uncle wasn't going to pop out of thin air or from behind the lamp. (AU: Pfft! Like Vernon could do that with his waistline.)

Leaning back, lightning flashed through the window. No one jumped when the thunder rolled, but Harry had sneakily made another move and took a few of Hermione's pieces. Gregory stood up, and did not notice the flinch from Harry. He was more afraid of an adult than he was of Thunder, unlike other children. Walking over the tall man sat down and lightly rested a hand on the boys shoulder.

"I will make sure no one ever takes you away from us Harry. You can count on that, okay?" Trust was not earned easily, but there must have been something in Gregory's eyes that Harry saw.

Slowly he stood up and tossed himself at the man, hugging him tight around the neck. Surprised but thoroughly pleased he returned the little boys hugs.

**Some good things happened, and a lot of bad things. Don't worry, Vernon is going to get what's coming to him. Enjoy. Ja ****Ne!**


	5. Accidental Magic

**Thank you all, my most loyal readers for waiting patiently for this chapter. Still looked for a Beta and I had a hard time writing this chapter. Thank you, Pawsrule for another review! And thank you as well, Vitzy, EleventhdocAmy, Dark Wolf Of Teros, The Dork Knight, Princess Silverstar, Lizzete and Kirasoul. I hold all of your comments close to my heart. You, the people that enjoy this reason is one of two main reasons why I continue to write this. Enjoy the chapter, I own nothing of J.K. Rowling.**

**Thanks to my wonderful Beta this has been edited! Check out his page for his own work! :D Thanks Japboix1!**

Harry walked in holding Hermione's hand, staring wide-eyed at what was before them and Abigail Granger. The words on top of the building read Harrods. It was the largest and most well-known department store in London. Aunt Petunia had talked of visiting the store often, but Harry never thought he would actually get to go. It was a classy place, 6 stories high and the walls were made of white stone. Harry attempted to count all the windows he saw. The place practically glowed. Very lightly Mrs. Granger touched the back of both children, gently urging them inside. Harry didn't jump in surprise, gradually getting used to the things Abigail did. Proudly, Hermione squeezed her best friend's hand. She did that every time Harry didn't jump, or showed bravery. It was turning into the best encouragement the little boy had ever had. He found himself wanting as many hand squeezing moments as he could get out of the day.

Walking into the store turned into more of a visual stimulant than the outside did. Harry smiled, slowly releasing the girls hand to turn and take everything in. He stopped when he saw Mrs. Granger's amused look.

"Alright Hermione. You know the rules. Harry. Stay with Hermione and stay where I can see you, understand?" Hermione and Harry both nodded.

"Excuse me... But why exactly are we here Ma'am?" He tilted his head to the side cutely, staring up at her with his large green eyes.

"Well I need to get you some new glasses and there are some school supplies both of you will be needing among other things."

Harry frowned slightly and looked down, stepping away from them both. "My glasses are fine. Good 'nough for a freak…" His mumbled response was heard.

Reaching down Abigail took his hand and Hermione's walking with them towards the first flight of stairs they would see that day.

"Nonsense. You should have a pair of properly fitted classes. When was the last time you went to an Optometrist?"

Harry looked up at her in confusion, something Hermione couldn't help but giggle at.

"Opto-what?" Abigail glanced down at him and tsk'd.

"I rest my case. Besides Harry, Mr. Dumbledore is paying for your welfare. Glasses are part of that, and I do enjoy shopping for others!"

"Ex-special-lee when it's not her money." Hermione whispered softly to Harry, getting another amused look from her mother.

"Don't let your father hear you say that, or he will never let me hear the end of it." Hermione and Abigail both laughed, making poor Harry feel a little left out. Abigail slid her hand from his to gently brush his hair back. At some point she needed to see if she could tame his unruly hair, but somehow she doubted that.

"What's Mr. Granger gonna keep talking about?"

"We like to joke that I married him for his money Harry, just for fun." She led him into a supply store to see about getting him a school bag, and their supplies.

"Oh." He didn't look like he understood, but Abigail failed to notice this as she checked the price tag of a bag. Back turned she didn't see Hermione take Harry by the hand and wonder off inside the supply store, exploring as she shopped.

"Let's play a game Harry!" She bounced beside him, happy excitement brightening her eyes. The Boy-Who-Lived gave her a wary look.

"What sort of game?" He was a little overly cautious, but in the past weeks Hermione had taught him so many games, and they had played pretend even more that he couldn't help but be curious.

What was going on in that brilliant young mind of hers?

Hermione leaned forward and grinned mischievously. "We're going on an adventure to find the treasure."

After a moment it was like the world around them faded and all that was left was a rainforest full of trees as big as houses and lots of wild animals. Smiling in response Harry nodded. He would most definitely play this game.

Following Hermione as she led the way, they weaved through the aisles. Every time they passed a customer, they pretended that they were large animals, and marveled quietly but gave them space. They didn't want the game to stop. As they worked their way deeper and deeper through the shop they drew closer to the treasure. Finally passing the final booby-trap that was actually just a stalk boy, they leaped towards the treasure and rolled along the ground, giggling. Harry reached up and snatched the sack, which was just a backpack and stood with Hermione. Holding up triumphantly Hermione cheered for him, both smiling. Abruptly though, the illusion faded with a few simple words.

"What a bunch of ill-mannered freaks."

The school bag struck the ground the instant the voice spoke. Little Harry grabbed onto Hermione's hand and pulled gentle, moving his smaller body in front of hers protectively. There was no way he was going to allow Aunt Marge to be mean to her, like she had always been to him. Slowly he began to back of up, Hermione stumbling to keep from being trod on.

"Harry, who is that?" She didn't get her answer though, for the woman rudely cut Harry off.

"Does your uncle know you're here without him, Boy?" She spoke harshly, Ripper echoing her with a growl of his own.

Harry kept his head down and didn't respond to Aunt Marge, slowly counting the seconds in his head before she would drag him back to his uncle. That was okay, as long as Hermione wasn't hurt. Her family had been so kind to him that he would do anything to protect them.

"Answer me, Boy!" The large, rotund woman took a menacing step forward.

Ripper lunged forward; the only thing that was keeping him from mauling the children that his mistress obviously did not like was his leash. Hermione moved her hand to Harry's upper arm and gripped tightly. The bulbous woman sneered at the two, raising her cane to strike at them. Harry flinched and shoved Hermione, sending them both running down the aisle.

Ripper snarled and pulled harder on the leash, leading Aunt Marge on a chase after the two small children. Abigail did not seem to be anywhere within sight to see who was harassing the children (A good reason to stay with your parents in a public place, Kiddies). The taunt pull on the leash caused a strain, the weak point in the leash's material pulling and slowly coming apart.

Turning a corner, Harry reached a hand out and knocked over a pile of lunchboxes. They toppled in front of Marge, who just kicked them aside and kept in close pursuit. How a lady could move in heels after two gangly kids that spent their summer days climbing up, over and around things, no one will ever be able to understand.

"Who is she, Harry?" Hermione shouted as she turned left and slid behind a stack of poster board, Harry urging her to move faster and faster.

"Aunt Marge! Look out for Ripper." The snarling dog lunged forward and snapped at her heel.

A sound of fright escaped Hermione, audible enough for Harry to hear. Eyes narrowing, the world around him was edged in black. Unsure what caused him to do so the little boy turned and kicked Ripper in the muzzle, giving Hermione a chance to sprint ahead. Marge, seeing what the boy had done to her dog swung her cane out wildly, smacking him hard in the side of the head. Head spinning, Harry stumbled and didn't move from where he stood.

That moment cost him.

Ripper's leash finally snapped and the bulldog scrambled forward, lunging at the boy.

"Harry!" A scream reached the little boy's ears before the dog slammed into him. Bringing his arms up to stop the dog from biting him, all Harry felt was something wet and blunt instead of Rippers teeth clamp onto his arm.

"My Baby!" Aunt Marge screamed. Why though, nothing was wrong with Ripper. He was still attacking.

Harry lay there for a moment, stunned until he finally realized the biting didn't hurt. Opening his eyes slowly he saw that all of Ripper teeth had magically fallen out and were floating away. He was being gummed to death instead of getting ripped apart. Laying there the little boy began to laugh, pushing the Bulldog off of him. Abigail followed with the Harrods security team running up. Scooping up Harry, Mrs. Granger pulled him away and looked at Hermione, who was watching the floating teeth. She had accidentally done it with her magic. Abigail, thinking quickly dragged both Harry and Hermione out of the store, before anyone noticed.

After she sat them down on a bench Mrs. Granger demanded "What on earth happened in there?" while making sure neither of them were hurt.

Lightly, she rubbed the red spot on Harry's cheek and cursed herself mentally. She could have kicked herself for letting either of them out of her sight. Especially since they had no idea how much of Harry's family lived in the area. They would need to be very careful next time.

Harry and Hermione spoke at once.

"We were playing a game, trying to find the Backpack treasure and," Harry began.

"And we were minding our own business, Mummy. But all of a sudden Harr-" Hermione was cut off by Harry.

"My Aunt saw us and came up. She asked me why I wasn't at home and next thing we knew she was chasing us."

"Her awful dog was going to bite me, but Harry kicked it and distracted it so I could get away. Then she hit poor Harry, Mum! He was awful brave." Hermione whispered the last part with wide eyes, Harry blushing at the comment.

Mrs. Granger didn't know if she should congratulate Harry or punish them both. With a sigh the woman stood up.

"Not a word of this to your father, Hermione. That goes for you as well Mister." She added on quickly for Harry.

"Now let's go see about those glasses."

"But I don't need glas-"

"Stuff it, Harry. You're getting new glasses and that's final" Abigail felt the beginnings of a headache come on as she took both children by the hand and lead them away. Aunt Marge continued to scream about her poor Ripper in the background.

**Another interesting chapter to write. The Rugrats sort of inspired the game Harry and Hermione play. Until next time, Ja Ne.**


	6. School Days

**Thank you Pawsrule and The Dork Knight. You two are possibly the two of my most reliable reviewers and I can thoroughly say I might be in love with you. Of course that's in a non-creep, Author/reader relationship. Thank you as well Ceo55. Well, enjoy the chapter.**

**Thanks to my wonderful Beta this has been edited! Check out his page for his own work! :D Thanks Japboix1!**

**Two Months Later**

Harry stood on the wooden step-stool in the bathroom. Hermione was standing on the other side and trying in vain to smooth down her wild curls. Today they were going back to school for their third year in Snowsfields Primary School. Well, it was really Hermione's third year and Harry's first day. He adjusted his new glasses. They were still black and round, but the lenses were slightly thicker and, much to Harry's delight, no longer needed to be taped in the middle.

Mrs. Granger had said for them to dress nicely for school so as to make a good impression for their teachers. Hopping off the stool Harry went to Hermione then took the brush and hair clip from her.

"Sit down Mione. I'll help." Hermione huffed and sat down for him.

If Abigail or Gregory passed the bathroom and looked in, they wouldn't be surprised at the sight of a little boy helping a little girl with her hair. Both children had grown considerably closer to one another after the Harrods incident. They just hadn't decided if that was really good or really bad.

Harry buried his fingertips into Hermione's thick curls, gently curling his fingertips against the soft strands. Combing her hair at first with his fingers, Harry marveled at the softness and the fact it smelled like apples. He lightly picked at the curls with his fingertips, pulling a knot apart as gently as possible. He would never admit that he liked to brush Hermione's hair but he did. Anything they did together he liked. And it wasn't just because she was his best friend. She was brilliantly smart, fun to be around and nice. As nice as how Harry imagined an angel might be. Picking up the brush he had set aside earlier, he dragged the brush through her hair, slowly twisting her hair with his fingers into a tight braid.

He managed to snap the hair elastic into place just as Gregory knocked on the door. Both children turned to look at him.

"Five minutes, in the car or you'll both be late. And I know how you hate to be late, Hermione." He winked at the two and headed downstairs to get his briefcase for work.

Harry stepped back so Hermione could get up, wringing his hands together nervously.

"Well. Let's go Harry. Want to make a good impression, don't you?" She walked from the bathroom and left the boy there, blinking in surprise.

The Hermione he knew was not so proper. Well, she was proper but she was also fun. This Hermione was no nonsense. And to be honest a little bit scary.

"Come on Harry!" Her shout flew at him from down the hallway, and the green-eyed boy ran from the bathroom, slipping a little on the hardwood floor and raced after his friend. Descending the stairs he saw her turn the corner and head for the front door. Picking up the pace to catch up he took the jacket Mrs. Granger handed him, shrugging it on. Hermione already wore her sweater and was walking outside with her bag, continually leaving Harry in the dust. They climbed into the car and buckled in.

Driving through London, Harry fretted and worried over how his first day would go. He wondered if everyone would hate him like they did at his old school. He wondered if he would understand anything his teachers would say and if they would think he was stupid like his old ones. He wondered if he was going to sit alone at lunch and at recess and be sad. And most of all he wondered if this was the end of a good dream. Oh, how sick he felt.

They drew closer and closer to the school and Harry grew considerably paler, feeling like he was going to pass out when they pulled into the drop off zone.

"Here we are children. Good luck." Mr. Granger's chipper tone made Harry want to run away as quickly as possible.

Hermione looked at him and after a moment, reached out and touched his hand. Harry looked at her and sighed softly. Nodding he followed her as she got out. Looking up at the school building, it did not look like a haven for him. It looked like a three story brick building with windows straight from hell. Shaking a little he walked with Hermione to the front doors where they would split up. Hermione was in an advanced class and he was in the normal one. She reached out and touched his elbow lightly.

"Are you going to be alright, Harry?" She spoke quietly so no one else would hear.

Harry nodded his head in response, but changed his mind and shook his head no. He was not going to be alright. He did not want to be here because he knew it was going to be just like his old school. Harry was afraid, deeply afraid of going forward. His best friend frowned at him tightly.

"Yes you will Harry. I'll meet you here after classes, alright? I promise." Hesitating a moment to make sure he wasn't going to bolt she turned and walked off towards her class.

Harry looked around and swallowed dryly, feeling as if he was about to choke on his tongue. Bowing his head he walked towards his classroom and entered. The room was brightly lit with white walls, but you almost couldn't know that because pictures and posters for things he didn't recognize covered the walls. There were toys in a corner, and every chair and desk was a different color. It was entirely inviting, but Harry just wished he didn't have his glasses on so he wouldn't have to see it.

Breathing deeply, Harry walked forward and sat at the first desk with a blue chair and got ready for the worst day of his life.

"Hey." A voice said in his ear.

Harry didn't move, zoned out completely so he wouldn't have to deal with reality.

"Hey!" The voice shouted and caused poor Harry to jump. Turning wide eye's he was assaulted with eyes as blue as a Jay Bird. Leaning back quickly he saw the entire face that belonged to the eyes. The person who had shouted in his ear was a boy a little taller than him with curly blond hair and skin the color of dark chocolate. He smiled at Harry and offered a hand, sitting in the yellow desk beside his. He offered Harry a hand to shake.

"My name is Blake Webster. What's yours?" The accent hit Harry's ears and he tilted his head to the side in wonder. He sounded... Strange.

"Harry. Harry Potter." Taking the hand, the two 7 year olds shook hands, but after that a sort of awkwardness followed.

"Uhm... Can I ask you a que-" Blake cut the boy off.

"I'm from Africa, if that's what you were going to ask." He grinned the whitest smile Harry had ever seen and it reminded him of Hermione. The kindness. Harry began to relax.

"I've never met someone from Africa. What's it like?"

"Terrible, it's hot and sticky there. England is much cooler." Blake shrugged it off and looked the small boy over.

"I hope we can be friends, yeah? I'll teach you how to play Rugby." Somehow, Blake seemed to be more anxious than he was, so Harry nodded. He had seen the kids playing Rugby and soccer back at his old school, but he had never been invited to play before. He imagined he could be a very good player, if given the chance and plenty of practice.

"Sure. I'd like that."

After that the teacher entered and began class, and it turned out to be one of the best days of Harry's life. So far anyway.

-oOo-

_Same Day, With Dudley_

Waiting outside on the curb, dressed in an old shirt and khaki's with a rip in the knee Dudley waited for his bus to come. It had been two months since the start of the beats. Not a day went by that Dudley didn't get a new bruise or bleed a little bit, and every time it happened it was as if they got worse. Dudley didn't try to dwell on it. Thinking about it, and how it must been to be Harry made him feel sick. To understand what it was like to be Harry brought a world of remorse and regret to the boy. He had been part of it too, hurting Harry with his words and making it impossible to make friends.

Dudley scrubbed at his face with both hands and looked down at his lap. Who would want to be his friend, looking the way he did. Worse, he had been a horrible person. A right ol' Bully to a lot of kids smaller than him. But now he was scrawny, due to not being fed a lot. His father barely cooked and his mum...

Dudley looked up when the bus pulled up beside him, and the boy stood hastily. Grabbing his old bag from last year he climbed onto the bus. It became eerily quiet when he made it to the top of the steps and began walking down to find a seat. Kids moved to the outside of the seat to deny him a place to sit. Dudley felt tears fill his eyes but kept walking. A foot stuck out in the aisle, and Dudley did not notice it. His foot caught on the ankle and he toppled forward, hitting the floor hard.

"Watch where you're going, stupid." The cruel voice of a child was followed by laughter all around. Flabbergasted at being treated this way Dudley slowly stood up and walked to the back of the bus where losers sat and found himself lonelier than he had ever been before. Tears pricked and stung his eyes before falling free. Dudley hated this. He didn't want to go to school or be alive. He wanted to die.

Harry was gone. His father had gone completely bonkers. And his mum, it was like she was dead. Only she wasn't, because he saw her every day. She was in the hospital, and the doctors said they didn't know when she would wake up or why she was in a coma. All he knew was he wanted his mother back. He would take care of her and they would run away together. They would find Harry and he would apologize. And they would be friends and his father… Vernon would be turned into a toad.

The bus lurched to a stop in front of his school, and Dudley began to feel sick. Standing up he followed the other kids and got off the bus.

Dudley kept his head down and headed into the school. He didn't seek out his old gang because he knew they would turn on him. They'd already started during the summer when they hadn't called him, come over to visit, or gotten him to come to the park. Dudley was alone in the school, with a bunch of other students he had spent three years bullying. The hair along the back of his neck prickled in warning. They all could attack him at once and he wouldn't even have backup. He needed a wall at his back. His father had always said if he had a wall at his back he could take on anything with a better chance of winning. Entering the classroom, he didn't move to the back or the class where his gang sat and he didn't move to the front where the teacher could focus on him. His father had warned him about if the school called him about Dudley being bruised or being a bad student.

Sitting at his desk, Dudley put his head down and did not move. The less attention he drew to himself, the better off he would be.

"Hey."

Dudley ignored the voice and didn't look up. He slowly counted to ten and hoped they would just go away.

"Hey!" The voice shouted, causing Dudley to jerked up and look at the tall, blond boy in wonder. The child smiled.

"Hi, I'm Gabriel DaBrinsky." He had the rough accent from downtown Surrey.

"I'm Dudley Dursley." He looked a little hopeful.

"Well Dudley, you're in my seat. Now move your fat arse before I make you."

"Oh yeah?" Dudley stood up but was unable to intimidate the kid. The boy sneered down at him.

"Yeah."

After a moment Dudley moved from the chair and walked to the only other open chair. Oh yes, he wished he was dead. But he wasn't, so he might as well suffer through.

**I decided to write about both Harry and Dudley's first day because it was completely necessary. Dudley has become an important character to me, through these Chapters. And maybe he will to Harry as well. Anyway, Review if you like. Ja Ne!**


	7. Authors Note Please Read!

This is purely just an Author's note pertaining to a few comments I had about child abuse, and how they didn't realize children were treated in such a way. This is not surprising, and I am glad that this has revealed something to you. Children suffer from the hidden epidemic of child abuse and neglect. More than 3 million reports of child abuse are going to be made this year alone. It is also common that such reports include multiple children. In one day more than five children are going to die due to child abuse and Neglect. A report of child abuse is made every ten seconds. Over 80% of children that die from abuse are under the age of 4. Between 50-60% of child fatalities due to maltreatment are not recorded as such on death certificates. More than 90% of juvenile sexual abuse victims know their perpetrator in some way. Child abuse happens to everyone, between low, middle or high class families.

Nearly 30% of children who survive their own childhood abuse will continue the horrible cycle of abuse on their own families. About 80% of 21 year olds who were abused as children met the criteria for at least one psychological disorder.

Child abuse also leads to other things, such as: 14% of men in USA prisons are abused as children. 36% of women in prison were abused as children as well. Children that experience child abuse and neglect are 59% more likely to be arrested as Juveniles, 28% more like to be arrest as adults and more likely to commit violent crimes. The increase for teenage pregnancy also is risen by 25% and abused teens are less likely to practice safe sex, putting them as a greater risk to get a Sexually transmitted disease.

One-third to two-thirds of children maltreatment cases involve substance abuses. It has even been reported, on a Halloween several years ago a small child dressed up as a power ranger stood at the end of his driveway, looking out for Cops while his parents cooked crystal meth in their kitchen.

Children whose parents abuse alcohol and other drugs are three times more likely to be abused and more than four times more likely to be neglected than children from non-abusing families. And as many as two-thirds of the people in treatment for drug abuse reported being abuse or neglected as children.

Nearly 78.3% of children are neglected. 10.8 percent are physically abused. 9.6 involve other things that are to abnormal to simply be recorded. 7.6 are sexually abused and Psychological abused while the remaining 2.4 are medically neglected. All these percentages sum to more than 100.0 percent because a child may have suffered more than one type of maltreatment.

To you all, this may seem like a bunch of numbers and statistics. But its happening every second to some child out there. There is only one way to stop it all together. Its to find the children effected now and save them, and hope to lesson the chances for the abused to become an abuser. I know, because my own mother was both neglected and sexually abused. And now she's a social worker. Please do not be blind.

You Should Know:

No one has the right to abuse you.

You don't deserve to be abused.

If you are being abused, you are a victim.

It's not your fault that you are being treated this way.

It is wrong that you are suffering this pain, fear or sadness.

You are not alone. Other kids suffer abuse, too.

Sometimes abusers scare or threaten kids so they won't tell.

There are people who care about you and want to help you.

If you are being abused, please tell a safe person - that's someone you can trust like a teacher, counselor, school nurse, neighbor or parent. You can also talk to a Childhelp USA hotline counselor.

Call 1-800-4-A-CHILD (1-800-422-4453) then push 1 to talk to a hotline counselor. The Childhelp National Abuse Hotline is open 24 Hours a day, 7 Days a week.

Thank you for reading this fan fiction. And I hope beyond hope this information both informs you helps you or someone else in crisis. You hold all my love, Children that Cry Out For Help.

Sincerely,

Ashley L. Burnam (A.k.a) Shukaku-No-Yukimo


	8. Rugby before Quidditch

**Welcome for another installment of my story. Thank you all again for all the lovely and informative review. I will handle the comments about P.O.V. as soon as I have time, General Kenobi SIYE. Thank you for telling me about that, and hopefully it will make the reading much more enjoyable when I get to it. As for why Ripper is in Harrods, as a lot of you asked. First off, I understand Ripper isn't a service dog. But Aunt Marge too me, does not seem like the type of woman to care. People take small dogs in their bags, into store all the time so I saw no reason why Aunt Marge shouldn't think Ripper could come too. Second off, it's a fan fiction, filled with my interpretations. Just look over this small fact and continue on because I think it's still a good story.**

**And I am sorry if the first part of this chapter is taxing. What I like about writing these stories is I'm learning new things. Like about Harrods and now Rugby. It makes this heartbreaking story a little easier to write. **

Harry followed Blake outside after their third week of classes and headed towards the park where the pitch was. They had Rugby tryout's today and though Harry was nervous he was as excited to be trying out for the team sport as he normally was playing a game with Hermione. Abigail and Gregory knew where he was going and encouraged him trying out for the sport, thinking the team environment would help him become more confident and would also earn him a few friends. The pitch was as green as Harry's eyes, and smelt fresh. Nothing was like the sight of this place, a game he had quickly learned and discovered he was shockingly good at. Blake had gone so far as to say he was jealous of Harry's speed.

The first thing Harry had learned was this game was nothing like American style football (otherwise known as Gridiron) that Dudley had liked to watch back home, or Soccer. It's played without padding which worried Hermione and Abigail a great deal. Harry shrugged that off, saying he had been through worse. Blake had told Harry that the main similarities between rugby and American football were that they were both running games played with a ball that's roughly the same shape and size. The game itself is played on a grassy pitch that is 100 metres long (Which translated into American measurements is about 3.2808 ft.) by 69 metres wide. The sidelines are called touchlines and there are exactly two in-goal areas about 10 to 22 metres deep with a try line marking the front and a dead ball line at the back. The height of each post varies.

A game of rugby consists of two halves of time that are 40 minutes with injury time added on at the end of both halves. Each side consists of 15 players, divided into eight forwards and seven backs. A total of seven substitutes are allowed for international matches. There is one referee assisted by two touch judges, who mark where the ball goes out of play, adjudge kicks at goal and inform the referee of foul play. A fourth official control replacements and substitutes.

The whole object of Rugby is to score more points than your opponent before the end of the game. (A lot like Quidditch!) One way to score is a Try, which is worth five points. It is scored when a player places the ball on the ground with downward pressure in the in-goal area between the try line and dead line of the opposition's half. You can accomplish this a number of ways, other than running over the try line and putting the ball down. They include the pushover try, scored by driving the oppositions scrum back over its own line. Basically a scrum is where both teams stand in two lines while the ball is being rolled between them and they try to kick it behind the feet to gain control of the ball. There is also a penalty kick, done from the sidelines and drop goals, where you drop kick the ball into the opposition's goal. The ball is passed and kicked, which is just moving the ball itself. And there is tackling, but onto the player that is in possession of ball, unlike in American football where blocking is basically done to everyone.

Hermione had told Blake that the game sounded barbaric and was played by complete chauvinistic males. Black had quickly replied that she was wrong, and that the Black Ferns in New Zealand are a formidable opposition and play against many other teams around the world.

Hermione had quickly shut up and went back to her homework.

Sitting down on the pitch as Blake stretched, Harry made sure his shoes were on tight and that he exchanged his glasses with the sports goggled that the Grangers had provided. No need for him to completely ruin his new glasses. Getting up he stretched besides Blake and looked around. Other kids were coming up to try out, a handful of large and small boys, all looking like bullies in their own right, and a small group of girls. Harry kept an eye on them but did pretend to be uninterested. Girls could be just as good, even better at this game and he didn't need them to show him up at tryouts. The Couch approached the field and began to shout out orders, telling the kids to get into two groups of 15. The larger boys stuck together, more than likely just a school yard gang that was looking for a way to beat up kids without getting into much trouble.

Harry and Blake got onto the opposite team, the girls and several of the smaller boys joining them. Small was not necessarily a bad thing though. If they could keep up with Harry and guard him while he was running the ball, like Blake could then there wouldn't be any problem, and they might actually win the scrimmage.

Just before the game began, Coach Darby handed out colored vests with numbers written on the back, telling them to take the appropriate vest for the position they were trying out for. The boys scrambled to grab the vests numbered 1-8 to get the forward position, but Blake quickly thwarted their greedy ways. Taking the vests from the smallest boys trying out for forward, he turned and handed them to the girls. At their age the girls were growing faster and therefore larger. That left the rest of the boys, and Harry with the vests number 9-15, taking position as backs. They would exploit the possession of the ball that is won by the forwards. The coach looked over the kids and seemed to get a slightly satisfied expression on his gruff face. Walking to the middle of the field with the ball, coach allowed the opposition to make the kick off, which rankled Blake's mood considerably. Timmy, the other teams forward that was making the kick off gave them a gape toothed savage grin that made the kid closest to Harry whimper and nearly wet his pants.

With a sharp whistle the ball was kicked and the game had begun! Blake led the forwards and snatched up the ball, running forward and leading the back towards the opposition. Just as it seemed like they were going to collide, Blake flicked the ball over his shoulder where Harry, quick as a cheetah, snatched the ball and began to run around the mob of bullies. Two quickly turned and began to race after him. No one acted as his block, because it wouldn't be cost effective, player wise. At the last second Harry snapped the ball off to a kid with dark red hair. Harry felt the larger body crash into him and knock him into the ground as the kid took off for the goal. He dropped it between the try line and the dead post, earning them several points. The team shouted in excitement and earned quite a few resentful glares as well. Blake pulled Harry up and they shared a grin, before getting into formation again.

It was sundown before the end of the tryouts, and Couch Darby had the kids all sit around him, though granted they were a little divided, having grown close during the shockingly long game. (Rugby is generally a face paced game.) He looked over his clipboard and sighed.

"Now I'm only picking 20 of your to play, five of which are just going to be subs. So I'm sorry. You're all pretty good players." He flipped the page and began to call out names, tossing Jerseys to the appropriate kids.

"Anderson, Timothy. Wagenheim, Clark. Pham, Sonia." He tossed out the first three, and apprehension began to build as Blake and Harry looked at each other.

"Williams, Donald. Xin, Cynthia-" as the couch continued both boys began to slouch. Maybe they weren't as good as they had though.

Both boys quietly began to put their things into their school bags. They were ready to leave then Couch Darby tossed them both Jerseys. A forward for Blake and a Back for Harry.

"Didn't think I was going to forget you two, little devils. You're both on the team." He turned away and began to tell them when their first practice and game was. Congratulating one another quietly, both boys stood. Abigail seemed to be running late and after bidding Blake farewell, Harry began the long walk home. Watching from the pitch and through the park, Harry noticed the hunched shoulders of a kid walking away. His clothes were torn up and he was scrawny. Staring more he couldn't help but think that blond kid reminded him of himself. Picking up the pace, Harry changed his path to follow after him.

The kid began to pick up his pace, a familiar expensive looking backpack was on his shoulders, but why would he be using an old backpack. He had always gotten a new one.

Harry began to run after the kid, who was instantly sprinting across the street and down an alley. When had He gotten so skinny!?

Struggling to catch up, he ran down the hall and yelped when a trashcan lid lifted up and flew at him as if it had a mind of its own. Ducking, Harry stared ahead with wide eyes. The kid was struggling to climb over a chain link fence. Quickly without thinking he ran over and grabbed the other 7-year-old by the baggy trousers and pulled him down. Falling on top of the righting kid, both squirmed and tried to over-power one another.

For once, Harry pinned Dudley.

Looking at one another in shock, Harry took in the skinny waif that was once a pompous fat boy. And he was bruised, and his eyes filled with fear.

"Dudley?"

The other kid didn't even respond. Then Harry realized his cousin had done accidental magic.

**Thank you all for you reviews about my Author's Note. I read every comment and took them to heart. I hope you all and your families have better futures. Thank you Ceo55, Blackheart09, The Submarauder, General Kenobi SIYE, Bobmin356, Ipod reader and sonikidds.**


	9. Devastation

**Thank you Blackheart09 and Ceo55 for the Review. I appreciated both and Blackheart09, thanks for the correction. I only learned about Rugby yesterday so I am expected more reviews on mistakes I might have made. I own nothing of J.K. Rowling.**

Harry stared down at his cousin in disbelief. Dudley was here, skinnier than Harry remembered, and had done accidental magic. Dudley, a wizard! Never having thought that Dudley would ever do such a thing, his cousin had spent most of his young life being trained by his father to hate him, and to be prejudice against anyone else like him. Not releasing his hold over commanding the situation, Harry slid his bright green eyes over his cousin, taking in the dried blood on his thin clothing, and how his skin was splotched with bruises ranging from dark purplish-black to a pale yellow-brown. The skin of Dudley's hands looked chapped, the skin almost complete done.

Why would his Aunt Petunia make her pride and joy clean? She usually did the cleaning chores, never being satisfied when anyone attempted to complete the chores. Harry stared at Dudley's hands, and noted that they were red and he had no doubt his cousin could no longer feel the tips. Aunt Petunia often scrubbed the floors with a harsh mix of cleaning chemicals, the ammonia smell so strong that it often made Harry feel the need to vomit. Harry made sure his hold on his cousin was firm but no longer painful, turning the boy's arms so he could peer at the backs of his hands. He wasn't surprised to see the skin was burnt. The burns themselves were small and round but covered the hands, and as Harry pulled the suddenly docile boy up to sit he began to regret not caring what happened to his aunt and cousin in his absence. Lightly brushing his thumb over the burns he looked Dudley in the eyes. He saw the weariness and pain that at one time filled his own eyes.

Vernon was abusing his own son and in nearly as harsh as way as he had to Harry on that final night, but in smaller increments.

"Go ahead, say it." Dudley spoke harshly, and Harry was unsure what he was talking about. Say what?

"Dudley I—"

He cut his cousin off quickly. "I'm sorry alright? I'm sorry that I was mean to you. I shouldn't ever have hurt you like how I did. I hurt you a lot, and I'm sorry." Dudley swiped at his eyes harshly and refused to look at Harry.

No way would Harry ever forgive him or his mum, because in reality why should he? They didn't deserve his forgiveness and this was his punishment. To live as Harry lived.

"Come on, Dudley." Harry took the boys hands as he stood, and Dudley looked at him in confusion as he came to his feet.

"Where are we going, Harry? Harry?!" He was being towed down the street by the healthier child and was almost unable to get his cousin to come to a stop. If Harry could, he would just lift Dudley up and carry him to the Grangers House.

"What?" He looked at Dudley with very little patience, but waited all the same. He never let go.

"Where are we going?" He tried to wriggle his hand free but was unable too.

"To the Granger's. They'll take you in and make sure no one can hurt you either."

Dudley looked extremely upset and frightened over the suggestion, which baffled Harry. Who would want to stay in a home with an abusive family when there was a safer play to go?

"No. I have to go Harry. Let go of me." Harry didn't let go and Dudley began to squirm and fight.

"I'm not letting you get hurt again Dudley. Please let's go—ouch! Dudley that really hurt! Come with me—Ouch! Stop that!"

Dudley swung his fist out and clipped the side of Harry's face hard enough to get the boy to release him, backing away before he could be grabbed again.

"Sorry Harry, but I can't. I just... can't."

Dudley looked scared and Harry couldn't understand why. Harry was away with a better life. If given the choice he was pretty sure he wouldn't have stayed with the Dursleys from fear but would have run away. How was Dudley any different?

Dudley continued to back away, body shaking as Harry walked after him. No way was Dudley getting away, but he was not going to go with Harry either. Turning, Dudley began to walk with purpose in the opposite direction of Private Drive.

"Where exactly are we going Dudley?" He avoided the question of why Dudley wouldn't come with him for now and focused on this other bit of strange behavior.

"To the Hospital."

The silence that followed that very quick response could have been thick enough to lie on. Moving to walk beside his cousin, Harry gave him a minute to clarify before even asking. He recalled Dudley had hated questions, a familiar nervousness creeping down his spine. He stamped it down because there was no time for that; he needed to get to the route of the problem.

"Why are we going to the hospital?" Both children paused before crossing the street. If Mrs. Granger found out he didn't go straight home then his goose was going to be cooked.

"Mum is in a coma..." Dudley said it quietly, wanting to drop the subject.

Harry came to a complete stop. Aunt Tunia, in a coma. How could she be in a coma? Vernon never laid a hand on her when he was around. She had tried to be so kind to him, the only one to ever do so before the Grangers. Aunt Tunia was in a coma, and Harry had not known. He had been enjoying his new life while she was hospitalized and his cousin had been abused by Vernon. He felt terrible. It was like when he was taken his family had suffered. Dudley like a sacrificial lamb. No doubt Aunt Tunia was punished, as if she had let him go.

Blinking back to reality Harry ran to catch up with his cousin. It did not take them long to get to the Hospital, and he just followed Dudley up to the Room. It was one of the rooms you shared with a complete stranger; obviously Vernon didn't want to pay for anything but the bare minimum.

Petunia lay in bed, unmoving. She had lost muscle mass since she was laid in that bed, skin going from pale to a sickly spoiled milk color. The tent to her lips was pale, cheeks sunken in. Her hair was frizzy and lay around her head. No one seemed to the common decency to brush it out. Walking forward he lightly touched his aunt's hand and felt like sobbing.

"Dudley… how long?" He didn't have to wait long for a reply.

"Since the middle of the summer."

Harry felt tears sting his eyes.

"And how long have you been abused? Why won't you leave?" He looked up at his cousin and there was a pregnant silence between them

"Because if I leave then he'll kill Mum... And since you left."

Harry began to cry.

**I apologize for such a short chapter, but sometimes the best things come in small packages. Anyway, Ja Ne.**


	10. Parental Worries

**I have to apologize profusely for not posting this months sooner than I have. Classes at my college were getting intense and I was struggling through writers block for this particular chapter. It's so hard to write for undefined characters such as Hermione's parents since they were not an integral part of the real serious. But I feel this chapter is alright for what it is. **

Previously…

_Petunia lay in that bed, unmoving. She had lost muscle mass, skin going from pale to a sickly spoiled milk color. The tent to her lips was waxy, cheeks sunken in. Her hair was frizzy and lay around her head. No one seemed to have the common decency to brush it out. Walking forward, Harry lightly touched his aunt's hand and felt like sobbing._

"_Dudley… how long?" His voice came out weak, barely audible._

"_Since the middle of the summer." _

_Harry felt tears sting his eyes._

_Harry began to cry_.

Something was definitely wrong with their boy, Harry. Ever since he came home extremely late from rugby tryout's Harry seemed to revert back to the boy that they once knew. Abigail found herself becoming extremely worried over this. It had taken Harry weeks to become comfortable in their household, and he had begun to tell them everything about his days. She remembered the day he came home after the first day of classes, exclaiming about his new friend and wanted to know if he could stay after school the next day to hang out. Abigail had been extremely happy for Harry, however now something seemed to be bothering him.

Maybe he and his new friend Blake were having a disagreement? She was sure he would tell her if that happened. Baffled, the woman continued to quietly consider the other options.

Perhaps he was doing poorly in his classes at the moment since they had been unsure if he had attended a school before now. She was positive that the teacher would have informed them immediately if he was having any trouble immediately. Turning Abigail stirred a pot of beef stew, wanting to give her family a hardy meal to combat the upcoming flu season. Hermione stood beside her, dicing carrots and potatoes carefully on the cutting board. Abigail often frowned upon mothers who used one child to spy on another, but perhaps she could lift the rule just this once to figure out what was bothering Harry.

"How was school today, Hermione-dear?"

The little girl began to go into intense detail of her library study group, never bringing up Harry or what he did throughout the day. Hermione was learning that with him living with her that if he wanted to share something with her parents that wasn't life threatening then that was his business. Abigail gave a soft sigh of defeat and nodded, adding a bit of spice to the pot.

Gregory Granger sat in his small office within the house, looking over the dental records of his most recent patient. Beside him was a notepad and ink-pen, writing down notes on how the teeth sat in the jaw and how the upcoming surgery should proceed. Mr. Granger couldn't concentrate on any of this however. He was staring at a Polaroid photo of his family, along with their new addition. The little boy with the unruly black hair smiled shyly from the picture, holding Hermione's hand. Both of his children, so innocent. He couldn't help but smile at the photo.

As he sat there, unaware of what had happened with Harry and his late appearance when coming home, he began to think about ways to grow the boy's self-esteem. His little Hermy-Bear seemed quite taken with the boy, and that in itself inspired the adult to try and guide the boy to be the best he could possibly be. He still wanted to bloody the boy's Uncles nose up badly, but all good things came to those who waited.

Standing up, the Orthodontist set the file down and walked towards the door. Stepping outside, he paused and watched Harry go past. The boy looked thoughtful and distressed. But since he did not voice whatever seemed to bother him, Gregory did not bring it up. Harry was normally very vocal about what was bothering him these days, so he hoped that sooner or later Harry would speak up. Still, Gregory decided to discuss it with Abigail once the children were in bed.

Later that evening after he had finally gotten Harry and Hermione settled in their rooms, Gregory went in search of his wife. She was down in the kitchen, polishing the silverware; something she only did when she was really worried.

"You too?" He walked over towards his wife and settled a comforting hand on her shoulder. She reached up and gripped his fingers.

"He seemed so upset at dinner tonight, darling. I haven't seen him like that since he first started to live with us."

Her voice was soft as she spoke. Greg nodded slowly in response.

"I'm sure if he was being hurt or if something was bothering him, he would tell us."

Abigail looked up towards him, eyes wide with worry. "What if he isn't? Greg! He could be in danger or upstairs covered in bruises and you and I could never know! He's had such a difficult life, I would hate for Harry to continue suffering."

Watching his love fight tears, Greg pulled her up from her chair by the arms and hugged her tight. "We'll protect him, my darling. I promise."

As both adult turned and held each other, giving one another the strength they had, the small Raven-haired boy walked down the steps. He had checked the adult's bedroom and found it empty so his search had brought him down to the ground level. He went to the entrance of the kitchen, watching the adults cry. Seeing this unlocked something in the little boy. Tears filled the deep green eyes and began to trail down his face, giving a very wet sniff.


	11. Authors Note 2: Please Read!

**Dear Readers. **

** I would like to formally apologize to all of you for such a long and horrible delay since my last update. Regretfully I have been putting off finishing the next chapter of my story, partially because I'm unsure how far I should take the abuse of Dudley. I have sat down nearly a hungry times to finish the chapter but every time I reread what I have written I begin to cry for Dudley. Despite none of them being my characters, save for Harry's friend Blake I love them all so dearly. I grew up reading the books and watching the movies and imagining stories about all them in my head. **

** Back to the problem at hand, I am unsure if I should take the abuse all the way and cover all three abusive categories. This being Mental and Physical, which I have already covered and Sexual which I have been supremely iffy over. I know too many people who have suffered all levels of all three abuses. They are the reason and all those out there who have gone through it for writing this story. But the chapter is breaking my heart. I ask for you all, my loving and most caring readers who have added this story to your alert too review and give me your input. In the end its my choice but I would like your opinion. To submit Dudley to sexual abuse or not. **

** Sincerely.**

** Re-Chained Imagination**

** P.s. I would also like to include if it wasn't for the pack that my inbox is still getting slammed with Author and Story Alerts for this story and the fact I really needed to clean out the inbox I wouldn't have come online and looked at all the old reviews. You, my fantastic and heartwarming readers with your encouraging and sometimes seriously stern reviews really do inspire me. And encourage me. Please review. If I get enough today then I will most certainly attempt to finish typing the chapter 11 and have it up within a few hours or by tomorrow at the latest.**

** Also I would like to direct your all to the story that I have currently started. Based on the X-Men Evolution universe. Your reviews there would be most appreciated. I take what I can get and love everything you have to say. **


	12. To Finally Being Saved

**I am changing the rating here. It's M for child abuse and Sexual Abuse. This is where you should stop reading if you don't like either. It has made me sick to write it because I think about everyone else that was raped in this world, child and adult. This is not for the faint of heart... So please don't read this if you don't want too. I apologize for the long needed update. **

All were silent, the small child picking at the marshmallows that were drowning within the contents of his mug or cocoa.

"No matter what's wrong, we'll always be here for you Harry. You can tell us anything." Greg started them off, filling the awkward silence. Sadly it only seemed to make things thicker in comparison.

"Gregory is right. We don't want you to feel as if you need to hide anything. We are here and always will be... So please Darling, tell us what has been bothering you?"

Harry looked down at the mug in his hands and sighed softly.

"Alright... I saw Dudley today. I… I think he needs help too."

Dudley sat at his mother's side, gently reaching out to smooth her hair away from the tubes that were currently keeping her alive. Several hours after Harry left and she appeared to be getting better, but that all changed suddenly when 5 a.m., rolled around the corner. Her heart had stopped beating, and the doctor had had to quickly put her on another machine to keep her heart going after reviving her, a sight that utterly terrified Dudley and would haunt him for the rest of his days. Dudley knew, with the way things were going and the cost of the bills slowly skyrocketing, that it was only a matter of time before his father would come and have the plug pulled. He was beginning to wish he had left with Harry. Taking his mother's limp hand between his own, he gently rubbed the back of her hand and fought tears.

"Mummy… please... You need to get better please. You promised you would get us away... You promised!' Dudley's fight against tears was in vain, because they began to slide down his sunken in, filthy cheeks.

Dudley gripped his mother's hand tighter, holding it to his cheeks as his sobs came out harsher and worked him into a coughing fit. The gaunt boy leaned forward and moved one of his hands from his mother's to his mouth to smother the wet cough, wishing she was awake to tell him it was alright. Everything would be better then. Her heart needed to start beating on its own; she needed to begin breathing on her own too. And then when her eyes fluttered open everything in the world would be right.

The door of the room opened with a startling bang; whale-sized Vernon storming in. His face was raspberry red, fire in his bulging eyes.

The man looked from his wife to his sorry excuse for a son and sneered. His teeth were a dark stained yellow color and beginning to rot, looking like a monster.

"Get the bloody hell away from your mother boy. Come here!" The windows rattled from the boom in his voice.

Dudley gently set it mothers hand back onto the blankets before standing, not looking up at his father.

"Now boy!" Dudley jumped a little and moved over to his father.

A big beefy hand grasped him by the shoulder and hauled him out of the room. His meaty fingers dug into Dudley's scrawny shoulder, pulling and shoving him up and down hallways until they reached a momentarily secluded hallway.

Dudley knew that some sort of punishment was going to come next.

Vernon spun the small boy around like a top and slammed him into an empty room, the door to the empty hospital room popped open. Dudley fell backwards onto his back.

When that little boy looked up at the man, a deep cold fear filled his body like nothing ever before.

"Your whore of a mother isn't here to protect you anymore, brat. You're just like the other boy. A freak that will go learn with freaks! Unless I do this. Unless I fix you before it's too late. Come here, Dudley."

Turning on his hands and knees, Dudley crawled towards the sterile beds of the hospital, the only thought running through his mind that he needed to escape. Vernon lurched after the boy, grabbing at his ankles.

"You can't get away from me, boy! I am all you have in this world. Now come here and stop your damned squirming! Dudley!"

Jerking one of his legs free from Vernon's strong grip, he kicked upwards blindly and clipped his father's chin with the sole of her tattered sneaker. "Leave me alone! Please daddy! Please don't do this!"

Vernon reached out with a curled hand and boxed Dudley's ear. Dazed from the hit, the child was unable to focus as a dull ringing filled his senses. Vernon grasped both his wrists now, jerking him up off the floor onto the bed, flipping him onto his stomach positioning him where his legs dangled off. Dudley gasped slightly and began to squirm. Pressing a hand between his shoulder blades, pinning his son down while grabbed the boy's pants with the other hand and jerked them down. Dudley only had the chance to cry out and beg him not to as his father fumbled with his belt and zipper.

Vernon walked out of the room with a repulsively pleased look on his insane face, raising a prodigious hand to swipe back sweaty thinning hair from his face. As he turned to hunt down the doctor and end his wife's life he did not expect the fist that slammed right into his jugular. The man began to cough and choke, throat swelling up from the punch as the first rained down again on his face. There was a sickening crack as the thin cartilage that was Vernon's nose cracked underneath the hit. The disgusting excuse for a human extended his arms as he fell back, seeing a man much smaller yet in shape mane falling on top of him.

Gregory Granger was more than upset. He was downright ready to murder this man. For everything he had done to Harry whom he now considered very much his own flesh and blood son. And for what he had obviously continued to do to Dudley in Harry's absence. Gregory saw nothing but red for what seemed like an eternity. The muscles along his back and arms where tense with the uncontainable rage. The skin along his knuckles had split with the force that they hit Vernon.

"You like to abuse children?! Think its fun picking on someone that's weaker than you, eh?! Well look who's weak now!"

Vernon began to sob and blubber in fear, muttering about magical freaks as the punches kept coming, harder and harder. The abusers face was becoming black and blue, swollen around his eyes and lips. Blood was starting to flow...

And then suddenly it was over. Abigail pulled her husband off of Vernon as the police officers arrived. People officers of the law seemed to turn a blind eye to Gregory's disheveled state as they hoisted Vernon, with much effort mind you, to his feet and slapped the handcuffs onto the man. A nurse and doctor moved around them and quickly entered the room. A child could be heard moaning in fear at the sight of the new adults. But no one would hurt Dudley anymore.

Dudley spent a week in the hospital before Mr. and Mrs. Granger "magically" obtained custody of Dudley, thanks mostly in part to Dumbledore who felt guilty over not assuming that Dudley would have undergone the same if not worse treatment Harry had undergone. Both were better off within the home of the Grangers anyway, though both due to their traumatic history as children had to undergo the beginning of intense childhood therapy so that they might be able to cope later in life.

Petunia sadly never recovered from her coma, much to the sorrow of Dudley and Harry. She now lays buried beside her mother and father to rest in peace and is regularly visited by the boys, being that she is the only relative either of them knew the location of.

Vernon, after vainly trying to press charges against Gregory was sent to jail for life in prison, charged with neglect, abuse and statutory rape. I will happily note that no matter what country you go to criminals look down upon the rape and abuse of children. He barely lasted a month until he became the woman to a rather unwilling relationship to the only inmate that was larger than him. The Grangers sincerely hoped he got what was coming to him in Jail.

As for Marge? No one really knew or cared where the back-yard dog breeder went. It was mutually agreed the hag wasn't fit to raise children anyway, especially due to all the complaints her dog Ripper garnered at the police station.

Harry, Dudley and Hermione lived on in relative happiness, awaiting the day they all would receive their letters from Hogwarts

Sneak Peak of Book 2: Shadowed Memories

Harry never recalled wanted to fly while still half asleep, yet here he was suddenly airborne for a sadly short amount of time before he clattered to the floor in a sore heap, glasses slightly askew as they resettled on his nose. Both the face of a bushy haired girl and stocky boy looked over the edge of the bed and looked down at him with sheepish expressions. It was 7 a.m. on a Saturday morning and they had woken the almost 11 year old up from a dead and rather comfortable sleep. He gave them both a very grumpy, displeased look.

"What's the big idea bouncing me out of bed like a freshly popped piece of popcorn? I was having a rather nice dream…" Not normally a whiner, Harry couldn't help but indulge himself this once as Hermione colored and muttered a heartfelt apology. Dudley just rolled his eyes at his cousin.

"If you're gonna act like that and make Hermi' feel bad then we aren't going to give you your letter that came. And then you'll have to go to some muggle school and be bor-"

"My letter came?" Harry quickly interrupted his cousin whom he found like to rant on and on about what might or might not happen. He loved his cousin, honestly he did but some things were more important. Like chocolates, late night tele which none of them should watch and the Hogwarts letter. Oh yes, that letter was right at the top of Harry's list.

Dudley huffed in annoyance and looked at his cousin before offering the letter, the Seal of the four founders showing on the back.

"Yeah yeah, here it is. Take it before I change my mind…."

**And that's it for The Meaning of Being Saved. I'm sorry for the rather abrupt ending and if you all hate it I might rethink the ending and draw it out further. But other than that I have already started the second book, Shadowed Memories and should be uploading the first chapter in the same day. It's going to follow our Golden quartet in their first adventure at Hogwarts. But you get to decide, who will be their fourth Member. Ronald Weasley or Neville Longbottom. Also if you're an X-men fan you should check out my other story I have been working on entitled French Mother. Thanks for reading and keep reviewing. Hope you all enjoyed it. Ciao!3**


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